Of Heroes and Hogwarts
by malfoyings
Summary: "I know what's real and what's foolery." Scorpius has been having really weird dreams. About knights and wizards, Camelot and Merlin. Strange things have been happening in school too - and it's only getting worse. Enter Rose Weasley and Albus Potter - and a search through Arthurian prophecy and dark Malfoy legend to get to the bottom of things - before it's too late.


The room was low lit, dark, and smelled of old brown ale and slowly rusting iron. Circles of smoke orbited the cavernous space, jumping against and from the scarce light in a way that could only be described as psychedelic. The room seemed to indent towards its heavy centre, dipping down, curved around a round table carved out of an oak tree. The table was bordered by a similarly round bench, with twelve dark indentations carved into them – places for the members of whatever organisation congregated here. _Secret Society._

Suddenly, the shrill screech of the door shook me out of my observant inner-commentary. I didn't have to turn from the table to know exactly who it was whose assured, confident footsteps were approaching behind me. _Godric, what a fool I'd been. _ I winced in disappointment as their scent filled the air. _I so badly wished that I was wrong. _

They tutted, running one strong hand across my shoulder blades (that suddenly felt like they were jutting out from underneath my skin) and tilting their head over my shoulder. I could feel their breath on my neck. I was sure they felt my heart racing with fear, anger – I had been fooled. All this time…

"Sorry about your little pet, _Merlin." _Teasing, slowly. I kept my eyes on the wood of the table, my eyes slowly reading the runes written on the edge of the curve on my side. _Bloody hell, I should have paid more attention in ancient runes. _I couldn't let myself become distracted; I couldn't let myself get lost in the searing pain burning through my entire body. I reached to the pocket of my robes instinctively, but my hand was met with a stronger one. "You should have joined us when you had the chance. I must say, I'd gotten quite attached to Morgan… but she made that easy back in the old days." I resisted the urge to instantly rip the head of this _Judas _off. But I couldn't. I had to breathe. If I could just reach my bloody…

Had to get back to Morgan… My heart pounded against the cages of my ribs but I knew I had to survive. It wasn't over. Surely, surely they were stronger. Surely _my _Morgan Le Faywas as immortal as me? _ "I'll die before they ever hurt you – this is how it has to be—"_ I winced in pain as I felt something inside me rip in realisation – dead. Never coming back.

"You're Merlin. I can't believe it took you this long to realise who you are, man. And now it's too late. Morgan, Arthur and everyone you love. To ash." My chest burned. No. It couldn't be. The room was melting into a much more familiar space, and _fuck_, we'd been standing on top of it this full time.

We'd got it all wrong. All mixed up. The damned _prophecy. _It was all a trick. An illusion. Much like the Illusion I'd hidden for a thousand years to keep Mordred at bay. It was all coming back at this climactic point like some dreadful John Grisham thriller. And then I remembered those sickly and ill-fated words… minutes or centuries ago.

"_I don't know what's real and what's foolery. But I have loved you for seven years, and I think part of me has loved you a thousand before. You have to stop him." _

It took every part of me not to run back down the stairs and engulf myself in the flames that were creeping towards the two of us. My destiny had been sealed since the moment I was born. I tightened my jaw – It had to be me. It was my purpose.

"You've hidden from me for centuries, Merlin – yet you haven't caught any new tricks. Clumsiness isn't very becoming." Snap. My hand found my pocket empty and as I finally turned around to see my attacker, I saw the two pieces of the white oak wand with the essence of pearl, lifeless in his hand. "I should never have expected _Mordred_ to play fair." I finally choked. A cool smirk. Dark eyes met mine. A spark. This was destiny.

An impasse.

SCORPIUS Malfoy jolted awake as the Hogwarts carriage crossed an unstable track on its annual September journey. The carriage made a large clinking noise awaking him from the reality of his dreams as the countryside rushed by through the window. He blinked twice. _Same bloody dream again. _

A familiar voice cut through his contemplation. "Bad dream, mate?" His best friend, Albus Potter looked concerned, his dark brow furrowed resembling every inch of his father, saviour of the wizarding world and victim of infamy, Harry Potter. Albus had been Scorpius' best friend for as long as he could remember – which is why Scorpius knew not to indulge Albus' curious mind with yet another _Knights of the Round Table _fantasy. Scorpius' energy had truly exuded himself – now he fancied himself bloody _Merlin _in his dreams. He really had to get his ego under control sometime soon.

Their friendship had been long and enduring – the kind of friendship that you only read in history novels these days. Sure, the gangly, dark haired Potter looked completely adjacent to the athletic, platinum Malfoy but they came as a set – that was the way it'd been since they first clapped eyes on each other on the Hogwarts express six years ago. Unfortunately for Scorpius, the package deal included a sometimes-scathing bonus – in the form of an insufferable redhead semi-loner, who, almost on cue, relished in the sound of her own voice.

"He's always having bad dreams. Probably some medieval fantasy romance from reading too many girly novels." Scorpius' grey eyes flickered to meet Rose Weasley's brown ones. He smirked a little sleepily. She ironically had a romance novel perched on her lap as she made the teasing quip at her friend. Uncharacteristically tactless, as if she'd been in a daydream of her own. Sense and Sensibility. How boringly _predictable._ Scorpius licked his lips and crossed his legs as he stretched. "At least I've experienced some _physical _romance outside of musty old pages, Weasley, you poisonous introvert." He responded before turning his gaze back towards the window.

You'll quickly realise that this documentation is _nothing _like the history textbooks and fantasy novels that you might have read about Hogwarts before. Because the part they cut out, the part that is almost omitted is the way in which teenagers really behave. Teenagers are ruthlessly taunting and boundary pushing – but that was the way Rose and Scorpius had always shown their platonic affections towards each other. They were _not _Ron and Hermione.

Rose readjusted herself in her seat as she felt her expression turn sour – Scorpius had an unfeeling ability to shut her right up and sometimes teasing bordered on cruelty. Albus, ever the mediator, cleared his throat. "Let's not tease just at the precipice of sixth form – surely you two can get on for ten minutes." Albus was much like his father – even without glasses, they were practically doppelgängers. Even Albus' Slytherin robes didn't defer from the fact that even his personality mirrored his father's – Scorpius found this innate goodness infuriating and intensely admirable all at once.

Rose, however, was an exact balance of her mother's brains and her father's stubbornness. "Ow!" Scorpius yelled as he felt the book bounce off his forehead, "Jesus, Weasley, Austen's turning in her grave at that, you great dunce!"

"Well deserved, Malfoy. Seems you haven't been working on your _precious_ quidditch reflexes over summer. Doesn't inspire much hope for Slytherin this incoming season, _Captain_." Things were normal – Rose and Scorpius at each other's throats, Albus as riot police. But, a bubbling feeling inside Scorpius made him feel as if things were about to change.

"You really ought to've been a Slytherin, with that cheek." Scorpius retorted, chucking the book back a little more gently than Rose had fired it. Pouting like a child, he rubbed his head. Something was off with Rose. He saw the anger in her eyes and It made his blood rush through his ears. It reminded him of…

"Fortunately I'm not an snivelling serpent like you two." Rose's tongue was quick and merciless as always – Scorpius often though this her best talent. Rose didn't need magic to sever someone's limbs, when she could as easily do it with a quick loaded statement or a calculated jibe. He was suddenly reminded of Merlin and Mordred's impasse in his dream._ Dumbledore's beard, he must be sleep deprived._ No. Impossible idiocy. Scorpius felt In his pocket to ensure the wand was still there. His hand met the very wand he'd bought with his father in Ollivanders many years before. A sigh of dreamy relief. _He obviously had deep rooted issues if he'd dreamt that Weasley might bare a resemblance to the faceless enemy in his dreams. _

"S'pose we ought to change into our robes." Albus cleverly digressed from what was sure to be a slaughter match, standing and reaching his long arms to the overhead suitcase rack. It was as if dear old Al had heard Scorpius' insane thoughts. It wouldn't surprise him at this point. He set down Rose's red leather case, gently at the girl's feet, then chucked Scorpius' rucksack at him with no such care. Scorpius felt the thump of the bag assault his stomach.

"What compels you Weasley-Potters to _throw_ like that?" Scorpius groaned, rubbing his eyes as Rose stood up. Suddenly, he felt his focus drawn to her. She was a far cry from the snivelling, long-toothed, dorky looking first-year that he'd met on the Hogwarts express. Straight toothed, long, wavy hair, reasonable curves (despite still being slightly bony in places) – his sometimes-mate was a bit of a _sort_ by any terms. But she was Rose, and she was one hundred and ten percent _poison. _It didn't stop him from appreciating the view for a fleeting moment. _Thank Godric for Invisalign. _

"Don't follow me to the ladies room, Malfoy." Weasley's velvet voice cooed sarcastically. Scorpius straightened up, ever fibre of his being trying to prevent his visage from going red for being caught glancing for too long. He shrugged it off, rolling his eyes.

"Wouldn't dream of the horrors that go on in there." He chuckled, swinging his bag over his shoulder.

_

"You really ought to stop talking in your sleep mate. And possibly need to drop the history of magic. You spent thirty-two minutes drooling and imagining some kinky Morgan Le Fray fantasy." Al called from the cubicle next to him as Scorpius pulled his grey sweater over his head. Damn train went over a bump. Scorpius crashed clumsily into the wall. "Fuck." He muttered as he felt the sudden impact on his side. That would certainly leave a very unwelcome bruise.

"It's Le Fay, Albus – but you'd know that if you weren't drooling over Aurelia Krum in that sordid magazine you found in James' room last year whilst we were studying Camelot." Scorpius remembered the look on Professor's face when he'd pulled the trashy piece from Al's hands last year, with the photograph of a blonde sucking on some sort of ice lolly on the front. Albus seemed to fulfil the most basic archetype of a horny teenage boy even more than his older brother, James, Hogwarts' own local Casanova.

He could almost hear that eyebrow raise. "Gazing at me again, Scorp?"

"Always." Scorpius replied flatly, his brows furrowed again at the sudden reminder of his dream. He could still hear that voice ringing in his ears. It reminded him of something his Grandfather Lucius had told him about a few years ago – something medieval and ancient and typically decrepit, much like the Malfoy Legacy. He tended however, to tune out when his grandfather was speaking, much like his father did.

"_They mean well, Scorpius, Grandmother and Grandfather, but it doesn't prevent them from being entirely nuts." _Mother. Scorpius could still, as he pulled my white school shirt around his chest, feel Astoria Malfoy's hand on his shoulder. Merlin, he could still hear her trickling laugh, and remember every feature, every wrinkle and crease on her face that were barely noticeable to most people, but that Scorpius saw, worshipped even. His mother had been a deity in a sea of demons. Now, she was a collection of useless memories, a sad sigh and a sympathetic look away from not really existing at all. He inhaled sharply.

"I reckon we should just wear our robes to the platform, next year." Albus' words were a welcome distraction once again. Scorpius snorted in response, his hands gently doing up the buttons of his shirt. As he did this, he felt a tingling on his right hand, on his ring finger where the gaudy Malfoy ring resided. Damn thing was probably leaving his hand numb.

"And look like your cousin Lucy, prefect plonker? I'd rather take three rounds with the Hogwarts express bathroom cubicle." The train went over a bump again, a bigger one this time, that knocked Scorp backwards into the door. The lights flickered, as if the train blinked, closed its' eyelids for a second. Scorpius' stomach did a flip because he just had a _bad feeling_. It didn't make sense, but Scorpius was reminded of his dream again, momentarily. Scorpius pulled his robes over his shoulders and reached for the door of the cubicle, stumbling out. He caught his reflection in the mirror, looking decidedly green. Everything was blurry, swaying – reminding him of when he used to get travel sick as a boy.

"_Not very manly, is it though, Astoria?"_ His head was swimming with memories and dreams and flickering moments of darkness.

"You ok, mate?" Albus asked, emerging from his own stall. Scorpius turned to make some sort of smug reply.

Then he heard it. Clear as day and blood chilling. Through the bustling of the students on the train, the whistle of the wheels on the track and the pocketing air rushing through the slightly ajar bathroom window, Scorpius felt the sound rush through his body as sharp as a sword. A scream.

The beginning.

This is just a brief introduction – (typos and all!) I'll probably end up deleting this, but It's different for me, this kind of story – mystery/adventure isn't really my genre as much as comedy/romance, so apologies in advance if it's a little rough around the edges.

Reviews (constructive or otherwise) are much appreciated – we're all growing and learning!

Hopefully, not too painstaking.  
\- Malfoyings


End file.
